Comatose - A Fremione Fanfiction
by AppleMelody
Summary: Set a few years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione has psychological problems, problems that she will have to live with for the rest of her life. But perhaps a certain red-head, with problems of his own, can help her to see the light.
1. Chapter 1 - Comatose

Chapter 1 – Comatose

After the battle of Hogwarts, many, if not all, of those who had fought lay beside a loved one. They stroked the cold faces, closed the glassy eyes and hugged the surrounding relatives and friends.

Of course, the Weasleys were among them. They had stroked Fred's pale face, hugged his limp body and cried enough tears to fill the Lake. George had fared the worst, crying over his twin, his other half, the hardest and longest. Eventually, supposedly cried out, he had stood up and walked over to Katie Bell, where he had promptly buried his face in her shoulder. She had done likewise, her sister had been among the fallen.

A little away from this sorry scene, sat Ron, and Hermione. Ron too had cried over the body of his brother, and found comfort in a close female friend. Hermione had lost none of her relatives, they were safely tucked away in Australia, but she had cried as hard as George. Now she sat, holding Ron's hand, trying to be strong for him.

"I..." she faltered, "I'm sorry." She said quietly.

* * *

Two years later.

Hermione sat in the hospital chair. She sighed, staring at the red-headed boy that lay comatose beside her. _He looks so peaceful in sleep_. She mused.

The rhythmic beating of the heart monitoring machine lulled her into a slumber of memories.

"_I..." she faltered, "I'm sorry." She said quietly,_

"_It's okay." Ron said, holding her hand, then his grip tightened, "Oh, who am I kidding, it's far from okay." His shoulders shook as a fresh wave of sobs washed over him._

_Prying her hand from his, Hermione stood up and left._

He needs some time alone_. She thought. _Merlin, we all do.

_Most of the Weasleys had left, gone home to the Burrow. Only George, Ron, Hermione and the dead remained in the school. Since she had her Apparating license, Hermione had been permitted to stay a little while longer._

_George was still sat behind his body. He had long since stopped crying, but his eyes were haunted, and Hermione could tell that, just like his ear, a piece of his heart had been sliced away that day._

_Awkwardly, Hermione sat herself beside him and hugged him. She didn't know why, or where she had gotten the guts to do more than cry, but she did. _

"_Thanks." George mumbled, placing his cheek on the top of her head. Her wrapped his arm around her and held her close, much like he had done with Ginny._

"_Thanks." Hermione replied. George looked at her,_

"_For what?" he asked,_

"_For being here for me." She said, "I...didn't lose anyone, so...I felt like I couldn't...mourn him. All I've done is hold Ron's hand and try not to cry." She said, tears running down her face, she buried her face in George's chest, "And it just felt like I wasn't allowed to have anyone...there."_

"_Now, Mione." George said softly, "Don't think that, don't _ever_ think that. You have as much right as anyone else." He held her closer, "You are like a slightly less annoying sister to me, and I'll _always_ be there for you, we all will."_

"_Thank-you." She whispered, and the two of them sat in silence, thanking whoever was up there for eachother._

_Eventually, George left with Ron. He knew that Hermione needed some totally guilt-free mourning time, so, he had left with his brother, leaving Hermione with his other half._

_Hermione sat beside Fred's face, stroking his hair, _

"_I miss you." She said softly, "I miss you, so, so much." A tear trickled down her face, onto the end of her nose, and dripped onto Fred's eyelid._

_It twitched._

_Hermione jerked back, before leaning close again, "Fred?" she asked, "Fred? Are...are you there?"_

_Silence._

_Hermione leaned closer, so close she could see each separate ginger eyelash. _

"_Please," she whispered, "Please come back, Fred." She kissed his forehead. It was not a kiss of passion, it was a kiss of desperation._

_Fred's eyelids twitched again, and he exhaled slightly._

"_Fred, Fred?" Hermione asked, "Fred, please, are you there? Can you hear me?"_

_He exhaled again. And even though she was desperate, he could have sworn he had said her name._

_She placed an ear to his chest, and slowly, only about once every ten seconds, she heard his heartbeat. It wasn't much, but it was solid, irrefutable truth. Fred was alive._

_Quick as a flash, she whipped out her wand. Using this moment of complete euphoria, she summoned a silver otter, and sent it to the Burrow._

_And within seconds, everyone at the Burrow had heard Hermione's joyful cry of "He's alive! Come quick, Fred's _alive_!"_

* * *

Fred was immediately moved to St Mungos. As it turned out, the wall had broken his leg, and knocked him unconscious; combine that with a badly timed Stunning Spell, and you had a pretty serious coma.

A beep jolted Hermione awake, she was still holding Fred's hand, and she swore he was gripping it slightly. Then again, she always did.

She looked around, the Healers were on their break, this was the only time she had Fred completely to herself.

She visited him every Saturday, without fail. She counted them up in her head. _One-hundred and forty-eight today._ She thought, nearly two years.

The funny thing about Wizard comas, is that, no matter how long the subject was asleep, they would never age. So, at nineteen (very nearly twenty), Hermione was very much the same age as Fred, unlike George. George was twenty-two, and looked exactly as Fred might, minus one ear. Even before the coma's age problem, even before George's ear had been sliced off, Hermione had been able to tell them apart at a glance. No one, not even Molly or Ginny, could do that.

"I guess you really _are_ the smartest witch of your age, Mione." They would often say, going as far as swapping their yearly Christmas jumpers to try and trick her. They never succeeded. Hermione had often thought it odd that no one else could tell the two clowns apart, she couldn't exactly _explain_ the differences, but she had never thought she'd need to.

"Hello, Fred." She said, "It's me again, Mione." She thought for a moment, "My birthday is in a few weeks. People keep asking me what I want. But I can't tell them. It would sound silly, and...and _wrong_, if I said I wanted you."

She paused momentarily, "Back." She added quickly, "Wanted you, _back_."

She sighed. What was the point?

"Ron's been playing up again. I wish I could love him, I really, _really_ do, but...it's not right if I don't mean it. Mum always said that love can't be forced, but sometimes it needs to be brought out. But I've practically turned myself inside out and..._nothing_. I love him like a brother, and that's it. I've known since the Chamber, I guess, but I lied because I saw how hopeful his eyes were, how they shone and how exhilarated he was. So I played along. I smiled back at him. And however much I hate myself for not telling him earlier, I'm glad I did because of you. But now we know you're going to be all right...eventually. So there was really no point in the first place. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Unsurprisingly, there was no answer from Fred. She didn't mind, even if he was awake, he wouldn't judge her, she just needed someone to listen. She continued on a different subject.

"Even if I don't...get what I want for my birthday, I'd like to know that I might get it someday. So, please, Fred. Please...I don't know, smile, move, squeeze my hand, just..._do something_." She was crying now, for the first time in weeks. For some reason, she had not cried at her visits after the first few, because she had felt it wouldn't do much good, at least not then. But now she wished she had, to show she still cared.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm a wreck." She said, catching sight of her red eyes and, even for her, unnaturally frizzy hair. "I'll just go, Fred, I'm sorry."

She stood up to go, but found she could not move more than a few yards. She turned, and saw that she was still tightly gripping Fred's hand. Breathing out slowly, she let go.

But his hand didn't fall. Neither did hers.

Hermione sat back down, watching intently, "Fred? Can you hear me?" she asked, she leaned closer, slowly at first, but soon found herself practically on top of him, only one hand stopping her from crashing down onto him. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and regular and quiet. He was totally at peace, totally still.

* * *

His eyes opened.

Instinctively, Hermione shrieked and leant back, which is to say, up; bringing her hands (one of the in Fred's, one of them the only thing stopping her from falling onto him) up with her. She was suspended for a few brief moments before she, well, fell onto him. Even though she was shock, she wrapped her arms around him, tears flowing freely.

"You scared me, Fred." She said, half furiously, half relieved, "I thought you were _dead_, and then I thought you would never wake up, and now, of all things you-" she stopped.

Not that she had any choice.

Fred had sat up whilst she was babbling at him, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. But he had done this only for a few moments, before he had pulled her back to face her...and kissed her.

At first, Hermione was surprised and frozen in shock, but then, she had never felt so natural. Everything she hadn't felt, _should've_ felt with Ron, she felt here. She kissed him back, first out of relief.

"I missed you so, so much." She murmured into his lips.

"I missed you too." He replied. Then, he opened his mouth, Hermione's with it.

The kiss deepened instantly, they wrapped themselves closer into eachother, passionate, certain.

Then he woke up.

* * *

Just as he had imagined, Hermione shrieked and leapt back, she even hugged him, but she held him so tight it was all he could to sit up. She was even saying the same words. But she didn't kiss him. He didn't try to kiss her. It had been a dream.

"Her-Hermione." He said quietly, his throat dry, she passed him a glass of water. As soon as he had drained it she pounced on him again, pulling him into a hug that would rival his mother's in strength, but it was entirely comfortable.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, smelling her hair, then he felt his shoulder getting wet, she was crying.

"It's all right, Mione." He said soothingly, "I'm _fine_, really."

"It's not that," she said into his neck, "I was just so worried, and I missed you so much, and I thought that maybe you weren't going to wake up, _ever_, and I didn't think you could hear me and-"

He took a chance, he kissed her.

Not like he had in his dream, he didn't linger, he kissed her on the lips, for a few seconds, then he pulled away, leaving her dazed, and, was it possible? Blushing.

"I could hear you." He said, "And every time I heard you I ran towards your voice, I guess I finally got there." He smiled, placing his forehead against hers, he glanced down. And withdrew.

"You've...grown." he said, looking her up and down, suddenly aware she was in skinny jeans and a tank top. _She looks even more beautiful now._ He thought, _she looked the same as before in my dream, and I kissed her then, why didn't I now?_

"I know I have." Hermione said, "That's the problem. _You_ haven't."

"Wha-what?" he spluttered,

"Fred." She said gently. _Oh my God, he didn't know?_ She took a deep breath, "You've been in a coma. For two years."

His eyes widened, "No." he said, shocked, "No!" he laughed, then the realisation set in, "No..."

"It's okay, Fred, nothing much has changed, apart from Bill and Fleur.

"They didn't get divorced, did they?" The tiniest bit hopeful. Fleur was annoying at the best of times.

"No." Hermione said, "Quite the opposite, really. You-You're an uncle." She said.

Fred's eyes widened again, this time in delight, "Really?" he asked, she nodded, smiling despite her tears.

He thought, "Uncle Fred." He said, and smiled, "I like it." He grinned now. Hermione hugged him again,

"It's good to have you back." She said,

Suddenly remembering something, he brought his mouth up to her ear.

"Happy Birthday." He whispered.


	2. Chapter 2 - Welcome Back

Chapter 2 – Welcome Back

As soon as that rather tearful reunion was over, Hermione Patronus-ed the other Weasleys, and Harry, to come immediately. Understandably, there was more crying, mostly from Mrs Weasley.

"I-*sob*-was-*sob*-so-*sob*-_worried_!" she bawled, and it took the efforts of George, Charlie _and_ Mr Weasley to pull her off her recently awoken son.

George was as thrilled as the others, but a question niggled at the back of his mind;

"_How_, did you wake up?" he asked his twin, "You've been under for two years."

Fred wasn't listening, he was staring at his twin in horror, "You...aged." he said blankly, George turned to Hermione,

"You didn't tell him?" he asked

Hermione's eyes widened, "No, no! I mean, yes, I did. But...I guess it's more shocking when it's your twin brother, I mean, you _are_ supposed to be identical."

Fred nodded weakly at this, "She did, Gred. But...it's different seeing it."

George smiled, "I know Forge, I know."

Just then, Fleur and Bill came rushing in. Bill ran to his brother and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Don't you _ever_, scare me like that again!" he said harshly, holding on to his brother for dear life. Being the oldest of the Weasley children, he was the most protective.

"I...don't...plan...to." Fred said, his voice faint and squeaking, Bill could hug as hard as their mother. Unlike Hermione's, Fred noticed, their hugs always hurt. Not in a _bad_ way, but they still left you feeling...crushed afterwards.

"Fred!" Fleur said, sweeping him into a graceful hug that reeked of expensive French perfume, "Eet is so good to 'ave you back! Would you like to meet your new niece?" she asked,

Fred nodded, glancing at Hermione. She smiled, her eyes twinkling.

There was an act of ceremony as Fleur reached into the pram and took out a small bundle. Fred was very solemn as she passed him his new niece,

"'er name is Victoire. She celebrated 'er first birthday a few months ago." She said,

Fred nodded, as he gazed down at the tiny creature in his arms. She had fluffy, white-blond hair, but Bill's blue eyes. She blinked them gracefully and gazed up at her uncle.

"Hello, there, Vicky." He said quietly, "I'm your Uncle Forge."

"Bonjour, Uncle Forge." She replied quietly, snuggling into him for a nap. He was really quite warm and cuddly, she thought to herself.

There was a collective sigh from the women in the room, even the nurse at the end of the ward. All the men blushed, but were thinking very much the same thing. Even Fleur was blinking back tears, she placed a hand on her heart, with the other entwined with Bill's. She leant against him.

"Eet is good to see you smile again, _mon Cherie_." She said to her husband, "You were always so sad before now."

He put his arm around his wife's shoulders.

"I'm smiling because my family is whole again." He whispered.

* * *

"I'm terribly sorry." The nurse said, walking towards the large group, "But I'm afraid visiting hours are over. Two of you may stay overnight, but the rest must leave."

Everyone looked at eachother.

"Well," Ginny said, "_I_ have a date with Harry." She Apparated away with a loud CRACK! Harry had left a few hours earlier.

"Victoire needs her sleep." Bill said, "See you, Fred." He gave his brother another quick hug, and Fleur kissed his cheek goodbye. Then the three of them disappeared too.

"Well, Fred." Said Mrs Weasley, "I guess you have to choose, would you like me and your father to-"

"No." Fred said suddenly, then noticed his mother's eyes fill with tears.

"I mean," he amended, "I...don't think tonight would be best Mum, you're a wreak and you need some sleep by the look of things."

Arthur nodded in agreement, "Come on, dear." He said, and they vanished with a CRACK! too. Then there were five faces staring at Fred.

"If you don't mind." he said to the remaining few, "I...I'd like Gred and Hermione to stay behind."

They all nodded. Then, Charlie, Percy and Ron all Disapparated.

Hermione was sat in her chair, watching him with wide eyes, "Me?"

"Well," Fred said, "You were the first one I saw when I woke up."

"Oh." She replied quietly, hoping he didn't see her blush. Fred was hoping the very same.

_He _is_ very cute. _Hermione thought to herself. _But he's Fred, Ron's brother. _Ron's. Brother._ If I started liking him Harry and Ron will be more furious than when they found out about me and Malfoy._

About eighteen months ago, Hermione had somehow bumped into Draco in Hogsmeade. For some reason, he had insisted to buy her a drink and have a chat, namely to apologise, and, even more surprisingly, congratulate her (albeit 5 years late) on her rather impressive punch to his own face.

"As much as I hated you for it then, I had to admit you had a good arm." He had confessed sheepishly. The two had formed a close friendship and then something more, with Hermione eventually breaking it off about two months ago. She had felt - no, _known_ - that Draco wasn't the one, and hadn't wanted to keep him from _his_ one forever. They had, however, vowed to stay friends, which they were. She still met up with him every Wednesday to chat about this and that.

Despite their wishes, both Fred and Hermione's blushes _had_ been noticed. By George. He had to force himself not to roll his eyes at his brother, it had been a secret of Fred's that he had liked Hermione since the Yule Ball. Ever since he had seen her walk down the stairs, and felt that burning hatred and envy for Viktor when he had taken Hermione's hand.

Almost ironically, this moment was precisely the moment Fred was thinking about. It was something about the shade of her top, and how her hair was sleeker, maybe it had come with finishing puberty, he didn't know, but she looked beautiful, nonetheless.

George was stood between them. He cleared his throat, and both Hermione and Fred jumped.

He sat himself down beside his twin, and Fred flinched.

"What's wrong Forge?" he asked, he reached out to take Fred's hand, but he flinched away. Fred was breathing heavily now, sweating with fear and looking around wildly. Suddenly he screamed.

"_Hello Minster!" bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort, "Did I mention I'm resigning?"_

"_You're joking, Perce!" shouted Fred, as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee. _

"_You actually _are_ joking, Perce...I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"_

_The air exploded, and all he could think about was the sudden pain in his left leg, how Percy was looking at him in horror, how George was screaming at him to "Stay with me!" and how, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't open his mouth to say "Where would I go?"_

_But the thing he remembered most, was that, underneath all the screams and yells of "No!" and the dying cry of a Death Eater, was Hermione's choking sob._

Fred dived from his bed, straight at Hermione. He threw himself at her with such force that she was sent toppling backwards, with him on top of her. She was suddenly aware he was in nothing but a hospital gown and a pair of boxers.

Fred wasn't looking at Hermione, but behind him, where the rest of the ward and his brother lay. He was glaring at nothing in particular, then his eyes saw his brother.

But he didn't _see_ his brother.

No, he saw Thicknesse, lunging towards him and Hermione, the wall lay crumbled around them. Hermione, still seventeen, was underneath him, unconscious but safe, and alive. He whipped out his wand and shouted "_Stupefey!_" at Thicknesse.

Back in reality, George leapt to the side, avoiding the spell. Fred raised his wand again, then felt Hermione move beneath him.

"Fred." She said, calmly, but in reality she was terrified, "Fred. Calm down."

Slowly, the scene of the Battle of Hogwarts dissipated, and Fred no longer saw Thicknesse, but his twin. Hermione was older now, and not covered in bruises. He rolled off of Hermione to the side, breathing heavily, still sweating with panic.

"G-George." Said Hermione, the panic starting to creep into her voice. She swallowed it, "Are you okay?"

George got up, rubbing his head. "I'll be fine." He said gruffly, then he looked at his brother, "A lot better than Forge, that's for sure."

Carefully, Hermione and George helped a shell-shocked Fred back into his bed. He lay down, with Hermione and George's hands in his own. Slowly, he fell asleep.

"What the _hell_,was that?" George asked Hermione,

"I...I think," she said slowly, "It was trauma."

"Trauma?"

"From the war. Everyone was traumatized by it."

"But Mione, that was two years ago, why would he suddenly have such a violent episode?"

"Because it wasn't two years ago for Fred." Hermione replied, "Coma's are like dreams, you experience things whilst you're asleep, but you still feel as if no time has gone by when you wake."

"That doesn't explain how...severe, it was." George pressed, glancing nervously at his brother.

"Only he could tell us that." Hermione replied heavily.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being Fred's breathing. After a while, George slowly pried his hand from Fred's, and stood up to leave. He raised his wand to Apparate,

"Wait!" Hermione said quickly, "You might want to do that outside, you could wake him."

George nodded, and turned to leave, then he stopped.

"You staying here?" he asked her,

"Maybe." Replied Hermione, "Depends on what happens."

George stood there, and took a deep breath, "You're a good friend, Mione." He said, "Forge and I are lucky to have you." He kissed the top of her head and gave her a quick hug, which she returned. Then, he walked out of the ward. A few moments later, a muffled CRACK! came from outside.

At the sharp sound, Fred's rhythmic breathing stopped momentarily, Hermione looked at him sharply, but then it resumed. Relaxing, her grip on his hand loosened a bit. Almost in response, Fred held on even tighter and turned on his side, so that, if he'd been awake, he would have been facing her.


	3. Chapter 3 - Trauma

Chapter 3 – Trauma

Fred was re-hospitalised to the psychiatric ward, where he was under constant watch by the nurses. After two weeks and no more of those violent episodes, he was released under the condition that he see a therapist once a week. On Sundays.

At first Fred had been scheduled for Saturdays, but had refused to come along if they were. He wasn't quite sure why, but he wanted his Saturdays to be free from all appointments, aside from _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_, of course.

Hermione had probably fared the worst out of the episode, aside from Fred himself. True, he had not tried to Stun her, but he had thrown himself at her so hard that the chair she was in had fallen over backwards. George wasn't so much hurt as worried; the attack, the nurses had said, was a result of built up trauma over two years. Fred may have been comatose, but he was still traumatised, and it does not bode well to let these things build up. George was worried that his brother might attack again, though why he had dove for Hermione and tried to Stun him was beyond his explanation.

"Well," one of the Nurses said, she was a skilled Legimens, and had been assigned to the therapeutic ward for that very reason, "Something in the ward, we don't know what, triggered a sort of flashback. Of course you probably know that it may have been two years, but only a few days for him. So the memories were quite fresh. He obviously saw a sort of danger, and only recognised – what was her name again?" she asked him,

"Hermione. Hermione Granger." George answered,

"Right, well. He obviously saw some sort of danger - be it an imaginary Death Eater, falling rubble or something like that – and dove to protect Miss Granger from harm."

"Yes, but why did he try to Stun me?" George asked, getting impatient,

The Nurse shrugged, "You would have to ask him." Was all she said.

Whilst George was questioning the nurse, Harry and Ron were trying to get Hermione to leave her room in Gimmauld Place; until she found her parents, she had been staying as a house-guest of Harry's; Ron too.

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry said, knocking on her door, "He didn't mean to, and he wasn't going to do anything, you were perfectly safe."

There was no answer from the other side of the door.

"Don't make me use _alohomora_!" he threatened, drawing his wand. Hermione said nothing still. Hating himself, Harry muttered the incantation.

"_Alohomora_."

Nothing happened. He tried the door again but it was still locked, he scratched his head in amazement.

"Still no luck?" Ron asked, coming up the stairs,

"No." Harry replied heavily, "It really shook her."

"Well what would you expect?" Ron told him, "She went missing for three months, who knows what could have happened. Maybe a dodgy boyfriend or something, attacked by a wolf, etcetera, etcetera. It must have triggered a sort of memory."

"Hmmm." Was all Harry said.

Just then, there was a loud CRACK!, and George appeared,

"Hello." He said, quite cheerful, then he saw that Ron and Harry were stood in front of a door, neatly labelled with a silver plague inscribed with _Hermione's Room_.

"Er..." he said, "Why are we out here?" he asked,

"Hermione won't come out of her room." Ron said glumly, "She came home from St Mungo's and locked herself in there. She only lets Kreacher in, and he somehow sees her as a Mistress now, and refuses to tell us anything."

"Has she come out _at all_?"

"She has her own bathroom in there, so...no." Harry said, "Well, she came out on Wednesday."

"Wait, what?" Ron said, "You never told me!"

"I got woken up by a 'crack' in her room. I guess she Apparated out."

"So, she won't even _talk_ to us, but she'll still meet up with Malfoy?" Ron said, starting to get angry, "And how come _I_ wasn't woken up by this supposed Apparation?"

"Because if you're not woken up by your own snores, you're highly unlikely to notice a little 'crack'." George said flatly,

"A 'little 'crack''?" Ron said, "Have you _heard_ Apparation? It's hardly quiet!"

"Yes, but it is compared to your snoring." Harry cut in, "I had to put a Sound Proofing Charm around your room because it was _that bad_."

"Alright, alright." Ron said, the red in his face receding, "But that still doesn't explain why she met with Malfoy – actually _left the house_ – but won't even talk to us."

"Well, it's not exactly hard to find out." George said,

"Oh?" Harry asked, "How so?"

George rolled his eyes, "You said she went out to meet Malfoy. _She _might not talk, but I'm betting the ferret will."

Even more than five years later, the Weasleys referred to Malfoy as the ferret. But after his relationship with Hermione, it was more of a nickname than an insult.

* * *

"Good morning, Ferret." Ron said tightly. Malfoy may not have gone out with Hermione for months, but he wasn't exactly _fond_ of the boy.

"Morning, Weasley; Potter." Malfoy said, completely ignoring Ron; which only aggravated him more. _Good_. Thought Malfoy.

"So," he continued, "Why did you ask to see me? I highly doubt it is because of my charm."

"It's about Hermione." Harry said, getting straight to the point, "She's locked herself in her room and she only left on Wednesday to meet with you. Did she say anything?"

A few years ago, Malfoy would have responded with something along the lines of "No, we just sat in silence for two hours." But as much as he disliked the two boys (but he had grown to like them a lot more than he had at first) he knew that this was serious, and he wasn't going to joke about when it came to Hermione's wellbeing.

"Nothing out of the ordinary." He replied, "She told me about the...incident, at St Mungo's; and how it brought up painful memories from the war."

"What sort of memories?" Ron asked, Malfoy stared at him incredulously,

"You don't know?" he said, his silvery-grey eyes widening; then he composed himself, "Well, if you don't know that means Hermione hasn't told you. And I am not about to reveal personal secrets."

He bade them goodbye and Diapparated.

"It _must_ have something to do with when Hermione went missing." Harry said for the hundredth time.

"Well, duh." Ron said irritably, "But we don't know anything about it apart from the fact that it happened. She won't tell us anything, and neither will Malfoy."

"Well..." Harry said, an idea popping into his head, "There is..._one_ thing that might work. But..."

"But what?" Ron demanded,

A horrible feeling was unfurling in Harry's stomach, "If she can Apparate in and out of her room, maybe we can too. But do you think she'd ever trust us again?"

"Let's leave it as a last resort." Ron said, "If we need to, we will, but not before."

Harry nodded, it was the best news he'd heard all day.


	4. Chapter 4 - Old Habits Die Easy

Chapter 4 – Old Habits Die Easy

Saturday dawned bright and warm. The sun was shining, the birds were singing...

...and Fred was alone.

He wasn't sure why, but he felt_ extra_ lonely today. He had woken up in his bedroom, in his flat above _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_, and immediately felt glum.

"Come on, Forge." George called, "It's a bright new day, and a Saturday, no less! Pocket money day!"

George was right, _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ stayed open from 9am – 6pm on Saturdays, as almost every Wizard child in Britain received their pocket money on Saturdays. They always made the most money on Saturdays.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Fred, feigning cheerfulness. As he pulled on his bright magenta suit, the feeling of loneliness crushed him even more. As he made his way to the kitchen, his gut twisted at the sight of his no-longer-twin brother.

"Fry-up? Or cereal?" George asked, putting bacon into the frying pan for himself. Suddenly Fred felt angry, no, _furious_.

"What? I can't make my own breakfast now, can I?" he shouted, George turned around, eyebrows raised,

"I was just offering." He said mildly, "But if you'd rather do your own breakfast, go ahead."

This only annoyed Fred more, "Oh, so I need _permission_ before I can do anything now?" he shouted, louder his time.

"Forge," George said, placing the pan down carefully, "I was just trying to be helpful. J-Just put down your wand."

Fred looked down, and saw that indeed, his wand was clutched in his hand, and was sparking dangerously. He slammed it down into the table, sank to floor and put his head between his knees.

"I'm sorry, Gred." He said quietly, "I-I'm just so on edge. I'm still in...fighting mode, I guess."

George bent down and patted his brother's back, "Its fine-" he began,

"No, its not." Fred said, "Every time I see you I get...angry. I know it's wrong, but I feel like you abandoned me."

George almost laughed, "Really? That's it?" he said, sitting down beside his brother, "It won't take much to fix that. You've seen all our products, it shouldn't be too hard to modify an Ageing Potion."

"Really?" Fred asked, suddenly feeling like the little brother he almost was.

"Of course, a little help from Mio-" he stopped, retracting his arm from around his brother. Fred had stiffened at her mention.

"Never mind." He said,

"No," Fred told him, "Even if I can't get Mione to help me, I mean, why would she? But even if she won't, I want to apologise."

"Do you mind doing it through a door?" George said, only half joking, Fred looked at him in confusion,

"She was kinda scared by what happened in St Mungos." George elaborated, "It brought up some painful memories" he paused, "She kinda...locked herself in her room after that."

Fred only looked more determined, "I want to see her." He said, "I want to apologise."

* * *

"Her-mi-o-ne." Ron said, over and over, hitting the door with the side of his head with every syllable. It had been a good few hours since they had come back, and they knew Hermione was there, having placing something a little like the Trace on her. Of course, it was illegal and Hermione didn't know anything about it.

And of course, she wasn't answering.

"Her-mi-o-Hey!" he said, as Kreacher pushed past him, and rapped on the door.

"Miss Hermione." Said Kreacher, "I have your dinner."

Ron leapt to his feet. The door opened a crack and Kreacher dashed through.

"Kreacher!" Ron exclaimed, "Don't close the door!"

Kreacher stopped.

"No, close it." Hermione's voice came from the depths of the room, Kreacher began to close the door again. Ron slammed his hand against it.

"Open. The. Door." He growled, shoving his shoulder against the heavy wooden door. Kreacher relented a little at the order. Just as Hermione yelled to close to the door, Ron found enough slack and was sent tumbling into the room. Kreacher, anticipating something, placed the tray on the floor and scuttled out.

Before Hermione could say, or do anything, "_Expelliarmus!_" and her wand flew from her pocket into Ron's outstretched palm. He placed it on the bedside table, and turned to her. She looked like she was about to flee, or worse, jump out of the floor-to-ceiling window. Hating himself, Ron raised his wand and muttered another incantation.

"_Locomotor Mortis_." Hermione wobbled for a few seconds, allowing Ron to place himself behind her and catch her before she finally fell back and hit the ground. "I'm sorry." He said.

There were a few moments when Ron was just looking at her face, it had been only days, but it looked like it had been months. Despite the fact that she had been given regular meals each day, she was much thinner, her hair was bushier than normal and dark circles ringed her eyes. The pallor of her skin could have given Voldemort a run for his wand.

Hermione, however, was rigid. Only her legs were forced that way, but she was straight as a board, her face expressionless, but her eyes were glassy with tears and distant. Suddenly, she jerked, so violently that Ron dropped her in surprise and she fell that last foot to the floor. The Leg-Locker Curse had worn off and she curled up into a ball, eyes closed, crying silent tears.

The scene had changed before her eyes. Much like Fred, she was traumatized. But these memories dug right into her very soul, and went far beyond something as basic as fear (however horrible fear may be). There was something deep rotting at her soul, something she thought she had forgotten, or rather, _hoped_, she had forgotten. Something that made her feel ill to her very core. Something that had happened, nearly every day, for three months.

She hadn't seen Ron before her, not after he had Disarmed her. Before she had merely wanted time alone, to try and gather her thoughts, and forgive Fred. But now every memory had come flooding back, much like it had when Fred had pounced on her. And now she found herself hating Ron, as she was forced, sentenced, _doomed_ to do. Just as he had said, as soon as her life had become perfect, it had started falling apart.

She felt Ron's hand on her shoulder, "Hey." He said softly, "I'm sorry. I just...panicked, you looked impulsive, and we're three floors up."

She whimpered in reply.

Just then, a loud CRACK! Issued from the hallway. Hermione squeaked in fright. Ron looked up, expecting to see Harry, but was met with two, both similar and different, ginger haired faces.

"George." Said Ron, "Fred."

"Hey." George said, then lowered his voice as Ron stepped out of Hermione's room and closed the door softly. "What's up with Mione?"

"I think she's got what Fred's got." Ron replied, "She...zoned out, started muttering. She's seeing things that no one else can. I think it has something to do with when she went missing."

"This might be a bad time then." Fred said, his face falling.

"Oh?" Ron inquired,

"I...I wanted to apologise. For...St Mungos." Fred said,

"Actually, that's brilliant." Ron said,

"How so?" George asked,

"Hermione told me about Muggle hospitals, and they said that Muggles with psychiatric disorders - you know, stuff wrong with their mind – meet in groups as a sort of treatment."

George looked at his twin, "Worth a shot." He said, "But do you still want to see her?"

"Yeah. To be honest, I want to see her even more now." He replied.

George and Ron went downstairs, calling for Kreacher to make some coffee. Fred tried the door, and it opened quietly in his hand.

"Hey, Mione." He said softly. She was still lying on the floor, next to her bed, curled into a ball. She murmured something in reply, but he didn't quite catch it. He stood at the door awkwardly.

"Look, if you want me to leave, I will. But I want you to come out sometimes. It's not good to stay all alone for days on end."

"That's what you think." She said bitterly. Squeezing her eyes shut harder, trying to block out the laughs that invaded her mind. "I would have given_ anything_, to be alone."

"What do you mean?" Fred asked, sitting down beside her. Carefully, he rubbed her shoulder, and though parts of her were forced to be sickened by it, most of her was grateful.

"Three months, Fred." She said, her arms still around her face, her words muffled, "Three months is a long time."

"What, when you went missing?" he asked,

"Yes." She said heavily. She went quiet for a moment, "Why are you here?"

Fred immediately stopped rubbing her shoulder. Pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. His face turned red, not unlike Ron's did.

"W-would you like me to go?" he asked, more than a little disappointed,

"No." Hermione said, "No, I meant, why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise. For what happened at St Mungos."

At these words, Hermione uncurled herself, and propped herself up against the wall, next to Fred. Tentatively , he put an arm around her shoulders, she snuggled into him.

"You don't have to apologise." She said, "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did." Fred protested, "I caused you to lock yourself in here, and starve yourself."

"No," Hermione said, looking up at him, her big brown eyes sad, "That has nothing to do with what happened at St Mungos." She paused, "Well, maybe a little, but that's not why I'm...like this."

"Then why are you...like this?" Fred asked, Hermione took a deep breath.

"If...if I tell you, you have to _swear_, that you won't tell anyone else. Only Malfoy knows."

"Malfoy?" Fred exclaimed, "Why him?"

Hermione chuckled, "Of course," she said, "You don't know. I would have thought that maybe George would have told you though."

"Told me what?" Fred asked,

"I may have dated Draco for a few months." She said, "But I broke it off a few weeks back."

"Why?"

"I didn't really feel like he was the one." She said, "But we're still friends. Quite close actually."

"I guessed that much." Fred said dryly, "If you only told him, whatever it is."

"Mmm." Was all she said,

"Would you rather I didn't know...it?" he asked, "Because I'm fine if you don't trust me, I just wanted you to know I was sorry."

"I know. I'm just...The memories. They...scare me. And I can't tell just anyone because, they would never look at me quite the same. Knowing what had happened."

"I can honestly say that nothing could change what I think of you, at least for the worse." He said,

"That's really sweet. But I know it's not true." She said, not in least bit self-pitying, she spoke it as fact.

"It is." Fred protested, "You are the sweetest, smartest, most innocent witch I've ever known. You could tell me and George apart at a glance, even before he went _saint-like_." He said, describing the feeblest joke the two of them had ever done. Hermione smiled.

"Very cute," she said, Fred's heart leapt, "But I'm serious. I told Harry and he just...looked at me. It got so bad that after two days I wiped his memory. I'm not proud of it, but anything is better compared to seeing that look on someone else's face."

"Again, nothing could make me think any less of you." He said. Hermione leaned into him, her head fitting into his neck.

"Do you want to tell me?" he asked,

"I...I do." She said, "But only if you want to know."

"I do, I want to show that you can trust me." He said.

Hermione took a deep breath. And told Fred about what came to be known in her mind, as her lost months.


	5. Chapter 5 - Hermione's Lost Months

Chapter 5 – The Lost Months of Hermione Granger

1998 – Malfoy Manor

_Narcissa hesitated, then addressed the werewolf._

'_Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback.'_

"_Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except...except for the Mudblood."_

_Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure._

"_No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"_

_Bellatrix hit him hard across the face; the blow echoed around the room._

"_If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next." She said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them – yet."_

_She threw Greyback's wand back to him, then took a short silver knife form under her robes. She cut Hermione free from the other prisoners, then dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room while Greyback forced the rest of them to shuffle across the another door, into a dark passageway, his wand held out in front of him, projecting an invisible and irresistible force._

"_Reckon she'll let me have a bite of the girl when she's finished with her?" Greyback crooned, as he forced them along the corridor. "I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, Ginger?"_

"_Now." Bellatrix said, "Let's get down to business, shall we, Mudblood?" she said in a low voice, "Where did you get the sword?"_

"_We, we found it." Hermione said, "In the forest."_

"_LIAR!" Bellatrix screamed, slashing her knife at Hermione's face, it cut a long, deep wound across her cheek, "I know that sword was in my vault at Gringotts, what else did you steal from me, filth?"_

"_We didn't steal anything." Hermione protested, Bellatrix screamed in frustration, cutting another long wound, this time on Hermione's arm. She gritted her teeth._

_Minutes passed in this fashion, eventually ending with Bellatrix carving Mudblood into Hermione's arm._

_Once Hermione stopped screaming, Bellatrix bent low, her lips next to Hermione's ear._

"_I bet you think this will heal, eventually. I bet you think you will escape." She hissed, "And you would be right. The Dark Lord may have made us swear not to kill Potter, but he also made us swear not to kill you, until he's had his _fun_."_

_Hermione froze._

"_I know what you are thinking, Mudblood, and you are not far off. The Dark Lord _himself_ has no such taste for those things, but is more than happy to give his loyal followers that order."_

_Hermione was trying her hardest not to vomit, it would only cause her to choke. But as Bellatrix continued, she began to wonder if choking would be so bad._

"_Oh, but that's not all." Bellatrix crooned, "Even if you do get away with your life...and something else more innocent and pure...this scar will mark you until the end of your days. Any of the Dark Lords followers will recognise you upon sight, and there will be _nowhere _for you to hide."_

* * *

A few months later– The Ruins of Hogwarts

_Quick as a flash, she whipped out her wand. Using this moment of complete euphoria, she summoned a silver otter, and sent it to the Burrow._

_And within seconds, everyone at the Burrow had heard Hermione's joyful cry of "He's alive! Come quick, Fred's _alive_!"_

* * *

Later that same evening

_Hermione was still walking among the fallen in Hogwarts, mourning those who were less lucky than Fred and herself. _

"_I'm so sorry for you." She said to the room at large,_

"_Do not pity the dead, Miss Granger. Pity the living." Came a voice from behind her. Dumbledore._

"_Professor Dumbledore?" she said, "But...you're dead. Does that mean I'm dead too?"_

_He continued as if he had not heard her._

"_And above all," he continued, "Pity yourself."_

_And as he morphed, changed, Hermione began to scream, she could not tell who it was, not quite yet, but she knew it was a Death Eater from the tattoo on his forearm._

"_And, no. You are not dead. But you will soon wish you were."_

_And as she felt the scar on her arm glow, she knew that Bellatrix was right. Before she could run, she was swept up in a man's arms._

"_You're coming with me." Said Fenir Greyback._

* * *

_The next thing Hermione knew, she was in a dark, damp and stinking dungeon. Her jacket was gone, her shirt and jeans ripped. She tried to get up but found that both of her wrists and ankles were chained to a wall. She could crawl a few feet to each side, but that was it._

_She heard a clank of keys, and the creak of a door opening. Bright lights blinded her._

"Nox_." She heard a voice say. A gruff, male voice. The light dimmed. A group of men came in, all but one masked._

"_Well, well, well." Said one of them, "Bella's curse is still in effect, even after her demise."_

"_Indeed." Came a third voice, "Even for a Mudblood, she's a pretty one."_

"_This _will_ be fun." Came a fourth voice, also male, _

"_I caught her." Came Greyback's voice, "It's only fair I have her first."_

_Until then, Hermione had been merely scared, but when she heard Greyback's voice - that tone, those words - her blood ran cold, even colder than when Bellatrix had first cursed her. Terror consumed her as she remembered Bellatrix's words. And she stood there, arms around herself, a feeble protection against at least five Death Eaters that stood in front of her. And what was to come._

"_Brightest witch of her age, eh?" said one of the Death Eaters, "Let's see how she blocks spells without a wand. _Accio_!" _

_Hermione sobbed as the summoning charm came into effect. The next thing she knew, Greyback's mouth was on hers, one hand in her hair, forcing him onto her, backing her into the wall, the other hand scrabbling around her back, scratching her, drawing blood as he fumbled for a clasp. When he finally took his mouth away, he used his body to press her to the wall. As his other hand stayed on her front, squeezing her. She half-vomited as something - most certainly _not_ a wand – stuck into her thigh._

_The other four Death Eaters all cried '_Accio_' and Hermione was left there, naked and defenceless in every sense._

"_Be sure to leave some for us, Greyback." Said one of them,_

"_Don't count on it too much." He replied, his stinking breath making her gag, "She's such a pretty thing." He smiled at her, and she felt sick._

"_Go to Hell." She snarled, _

_Greyback's eyebrows jotted up momentarily, "Feisty one too." He said to his colleagues. "Good. The feisty ones are always so much more fun to break."_

* * *

_Just then, the scene dissolved, ad Hermione stood there, still in the dungeon, still clothed, still chained. The same Death Eaters stood there, but Greyback was holding a box of white powder. And for some reason, he was glaring at it._

"_It wore off to fast, Greyback." One of them said in annoyance, "Are you sure it is pure?"_

"_Positive." He growled, "Would you like me to demonstrate?" he asked, turning towards the man who had spoken._

"_Now, now, Greyback." Another one said, "We have a perfectly suitable test subject right here." He raised his wand and pointed it at Hermione._

"_W-what is that?" asked Hermione, pointing at the white powder._

"_Powdered Boggart." Replied Greyback, "Completely useless against the _Ridikkulus_ charm. And ten times as powerful."_

_Hermione tried to shrink away from him as he took a handful of the powder and threw it into her face._

* * *

"Y...You spent three months...like _that_?" Fred said, sick to his very soul. He hugged her closer.

"Yes." Hermione said quietly, "And that's not the half of it."

Fred gulped, "It...it isn't? What's worse than what they did?"

"I get flashbacks." She said bitterly, "At one point my fear was...being attacked by wolves. And when you jumped at me at St Mungos, I had a flashback. And this..._thing_ inside of me, hated you, and made _me_ hate you. Because I had been so scared, and I hated Greyback for causing my fear, and you had caused a flashback."

"Do...you still hate me?" Fred asked,

"No." she said, "Absolutely not." She kissed his cheek. He hoped the dim light of the room had hidden his blush,

"Is there any way to get rid of it?" he asked, "The...hate reflex?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it." She said sadly, "I guess I'll just have to live with it."

So the two of them sat there, in dim silence, mulling over what had been said. Though Fred felt he had done nothing, Hermione felt he had a done a great deal. Aside from Malfoy, he was the first person she had willingly talked to since what had happened at St Mungos. She was infinitely grateful for his company and gentleness, that she momentarily forgot about all her fear, and personal demons, and just allowed herself to be the slightly younger girl from just before the Battle of Hogwarts, looking up into the face of one of the sweetest boys she had ever met.

But then she looked at him, just a glance, so quick he didn't even notice, and Hermione suddenly felt like she couldn't call him a boy anymore. He may only have looked twenty, the same age as her, but she felt very small next to him. Not scared or intimidated, just...small. And safe. And Hermione allowed herself to fall into a gentle slumber next to him, arms pulled into her body, curled up in a little ball, cocooned by Fred and his arm, her head in his neck – for even though they were the same age, he was still very tall – and she just...drifted away.

Fred was feeling very much the same. He felt quite proud that he had managed to talk to Hermione, where George and Ron and Harry had failed, but he immediately felt guilty. He had not come to get answers, he had come to apologise, and, if need be, comfort. But then Hermione snuggled a little closer to him in her sleep, and the guilt melted away. Soon, he too was sleeping peacefully.

And for both of them, it was the best sleep they had had for two years.


	6. Chapter 6 - Therapy

Chapter 6 – Therapy

Though it had only been mid-morning when they fell asleep together, Hermione and Fred slept for a very long time, it was six 'o'clock when they were awoken by Harry's insistent knocking. Or rather, the loud CRACK! of his Apparating into the hallway outside. Harry now worked at the Ministry, and was a promising Auror, already being considered for the Head Post when he was older, and by the Minster (Kingsley Shacklebolt) no less.

"Hermione!" he said, knocking, "Look, I know you're busy doing...whatever...but George said that Fred hasn't come out yet and they need to get home."

Fred and Hermione woke suddenly, but not suddenly enough to move. Hermione found herself encircled by Fred's arm, snuggled against his chest, and Fred found himself, well, with Hermione snuggling into his side. To say the least, they were embarrassed, but not exactly disappointed.

Fred looked at Hermione, "It seems I have to go now." He said quietly, "So I'll just be-"

"Wait." Hermione said, "I...I'll come with you."

"What? To my flat?"

"No." she said, "Outside. The room."

Fred looked at her intensely, "Are you sure?" he asked her, "Because you could stay in here if you want."

"I do want." Hermione said, "But today Ron took, for lack of a better phrase, drastic action. He _broke in_. And then you came to visit. It's a sign. I have to stop hiding, and I think I've reached a point where hiding won't help me get any better."

"If you say so." Fred said, then he remembered something, "Hey, could...could I ask you a favour?"

"Sure." She replied, "What is it?"

"Could you make an Aging Potion for me?"

"What?" She asked,

"I...I don't like looking at George...and knowing that I don't look like him anymore. I hate...not having a twin, but another older brother."

"So you want an Aging Potion?" said Hermione, "But they're only temporary."

"Well, that's why I'm asking _you_. Smartest witch of your age, right?" he gave her a crooked grin, "If anyone can make a permanent Aging Potion, it's you."

Hermione blushed at the compliment, "I can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do."

"You...you don't mind? Because I know you've had your own problems and-"

"No," Hermione said, cutting him off, "I want to. I want to help, and maybe it can bring me back a sense of...normality. Like therapy."

"Are you sure?" Fred asked earnestly,

"Positive." Hermione said, kissing his cheek. Then they both stood up, and for the first time in days, Hermione walked out of her room.

Harry's eyes widened. "Hermione." He said softly.

"Hey, Harry." She said quietly..."Erm...what's for dinner?"

Harry stared, "You lock yourself in your room for a _week_, leaving only to talk to _Malfoy_, and when you finally come out, you say 'what's for dinner?'"

Hermione could sense he was about to either yell or cry. Before he could say or do anything else, she wrapped her arms around him, "I'm sorry." She said.

Harry looked at Fred, "_What did you say to her?"_ he mouthed, Fred shrugged, not wanting to tell Harry anything in case Hermione didn't want him to know.

Considering how she had wiped his memory, she probably didn't.

"I was really worried." Harry said, slightly annoyed,

"And I'm really sorry." Hermione said, "But don't worry, I'm better now."

Over Harry's shoulder, Hermione and Fred shared a smile.

* * *

That night, there was a little dinner party at Grimmauld Place.

Ron and Harry were over the moon that Hermione was better, so had invited a few people over to celebrate. Namely, the Weasley family except for Charlie. He was still in Romania, but he had owled a letter sending his best to Hermione, Harry and Ron.

"Oh, it's good to see you better dear!" Mrs Weasley cried, pulling Hermione into one of her trademark bone-crushing hugs.

"Glad...you're...oh...kay...too." Hermione said, gasping for breath. Luckily, Mrs Weasley had spotted Ron, so let go, only to continue her reign of cracking vertebrae on her youngest son.

"Hey...Mum..." Ron said,

Despite the fact that Charlie wasn't there, the head count was still at 12, Draco Malfoy had also been invited, with much insistence on Harry's part, as Ron was even _less_ fond of Malfoy after finding out Hermione had talked to him rather than Ron. Percy, though he had reconciled with his family, didn't see them much, and was very busy at work that night.

"Hello." said Draco, somewhat self-consciously; was his hair neat? Did he have a stain on his jacket? He felt his cheeks going red. But all, or at least most, of his worries were abandoned when Hermione came up to him and gave him a hug, "Glad you could make it." She said quietly, so that only Draco heard. He smiled, relaxing a little.

"Glad you're feeling better." He replied, hugging her back.

"Hello, Malfoy." Ron said tightly, shaking the blonde boy's hand.

"Evening, Ronald." Draco replied, Ron dropped his hand in surprise, Malfoy had never called him _Ronald_ before, just 'Weasley'. Harry stepped forward,

"Hello, Draco." He said, and he actually smiled as he shook Draco's hand.

_He's really making an effort_. Hermione thought.

Next to approach the young Malfoy was Ginny. Partly to annoy Harry, and partly to appear gracious, he bowed and kissed her hand. Ginny blushed, and Draco earned himself a glare from Harry; and a half-approving look from Ron. He still wasn't completely happy that his sister was dating his best friend.

Then of course, Mr and Mrs Weasley, who crushed him into a hug and shook his hand respectively. Every male Weasley approached the boy, and shook his hand. Even Fleur, with her usual exotic charm, kissed his cheeks. Soon Draco was blushing for an entirely different reason.

Lastly, Fred came up to greet Malfoy. Somewhat coldly, Fred shook his hand, but neither boy relished the moment. Draco had not yet accepted this Weasley, and this Weasley had not yet accepted him.

"Malfoy." Fred said tightly, Draco merely nodded.

Sensing the tension, Mrs Weasley suggested they all sit down for dinner. Almost typically, Fred and Draco sat either side of Hermione, making the poor girl uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. _I love them both so much_, she thought, _why am I so tense?_

"So, Forge." George said carefully; he was sat on Fred's other side, "Did you ask 'Mione about the Aging Potion?"

"I did, Gred." He replied, and he turned to smile at her, "And she has been lovely enough to oblige." Hermione blushed, "Its fine." She told George, "Honestly, I think it could really help. A sort of...therapy, to get some normality back, you know what I mean?"

"Indeed." George replied, "I have enough brothers, I want a _twin_." He grinned at Fred, who ginned back. Almost scarily, their grins were still identical.

"Do you know when it will be done?" Fred asked her, then he blushed, "I mean, you don't have to start right away, I was just wondering, I mean, whenever you _can_, or..." he stopped, blushing deeper.

"I'll make a start tomorrow." She promised, "And if I'm lucky, it should be done in a few weeks."

* * *

And so, the meal passed happily. Kreacher and Winky had outdone themselves, the food was exquisite, though everyone still insisted that it wasn't as good as Mrs Weasley's. After there was Firewhisky, Butterbeer, French wine (graciously supplied by Bill and Fleur) before everyone bid goodbye to Hermione, Ron and Harry. Soon, only the twins were left.

"Hey, Harry," George said, "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Uh, sure." Harry said, leading him into one of Gimmauld Place's many sitting rooms, "What is it?"

"I was wondering if maybe Fred could stay here for a few days." George said, "Or weeks, or basically as long as it takes 'Mione to make the Potion."

"Why's that?" Harry asked,

"Fred freaked out today, Harry. It's driving him nuts to see me older than him, and it's driving _me_ nuts too." He sighed, "I love him. Merlin, I love him more than I love Angelina." He grinned, "Actually, don't tell either of them that."

Harry smiled, "So...it's doing the same thing to you, as it was to him, to see him looking different to you?"

"Yes." George replied heavily,

"I'd be happy to let Fred stay here." Harry said, "There are more spare rooms than I know what to do with and as they say, the more the merrier."

George grinned, "Great, cheers, Harry, I owe you one."

"Nah," Harry said, "Consider it a favour from my Dad."

"What?" George asked,

"You and Fred continued his legacy. Well, it's Lupin and Sirius' legacy too. It's the least I can do."

"What?" George asked again,

"'_I solemnly swear I am up to no good'_." Harry replied, smiling as he left the room.

George stood there for a full two minutes before it clicked.

"The _MARAUDERS_?"


	7. Chapter 7 - Dreams Do Come True

Chapter 7 – Dreams Do Come True

Harry spent the next few days being hounded by the twins. He knew they had needed something to cheer them up, but he found himself starting to regret it after he woke up to find all of his clothes various shades of pink, and Phineas' painting charmed to yell "Moony, Padfoot and Prongs." Every time he passed it. The rest of the time it was murmuring "I solemnly swear I am up to no good"

"Oh shut up." He said irritably,

"I hadn't said anything yet." Fred grinned from the doorway, his shirt was bright blue, which accented his eyes.

"You don't need to." Harry said, glaring down at his own jeans and shirt, "Your colour scheme says it all."

Fred chuckled, and waved his wand, and Harry found himself in normal jeans and a green shirt. "Pink isn't really your colour anyway."

"Hmph." Harry grunted, "Can you do anything about Phineas?"

Fred chuckled again, "It's not like you need Hermione to solve that one. _Silencio_." And the painting quietened, "We actually expected you to solve that one after a few hours, we didn't mean to give you such a hard time."

"Ah, it's fine." Harry amended, "It's good to see you back to your normal pranks. But do that again and I'll give you a lighting scar of your own."

Fred grinned crookedly as he left the room.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of her latest house-mate. Fred was lovely, and the one person she could talk to, in fact, they met up in the attic every night for a chat, to help eachother. But Hermione found herself looking forward to these meetings more than she thought she should.

In fact, when she was trying to make a permanent Aging Potion, she found she couldn't stop daydreaming about him, and was closer than she cared to admit to hitting herself with her book, which happened to be a large, leather-bound tome.

Just as she was trying – for what could have very possibly been the hundredth time – to concentrate on the Potion, who should come into the library but the young man himself? Hermione both groaned and sighed inwardly, and then chided herself for both.

_He's very sweet, and he's just come into the library, you can always go to your room if need be_. Said one part of her,

_He's _Ron's brother_, you can't like him, you _can't_. It would be worse than when Harry and Ginny started going out, because Ginny didn't get chosen _instead_ of him._

"Hey 'Mione." Fred said softly, snapping her out of her reverie, "You busy?"

"Not really." She said truthfully, "Just working on finding a recipe for the Potion. So far I have a vague idea."

"Oh?" Fred asked, "Please, tell me."

Hermione blushed, "It's just an idea." She said, "But what if I isolated the part of a spell that makes it permanent? Like with Sticking Charms. There are both Permanent, and Non-Permanent ones. If I could isolate that part of the spell, and cast it on a regular Aging Potion, it may work."

Fred gaped, "That's brilliant." He said, grinning crookedly at her, "They don't call you the smartest witch of your age for nothing."

Hermione blushed again, "That's very sweet of you to say, but it's just a theory."

"A very smart theory." Fred protested, then he stood up. "Thank you for doing this 'Mione. It means a lot."

Hermione blushed deeper at these words, and deeper still when Fred gave her a hug before leaving the room.

* * *

Hermione was very busy for the rest of the day, scouring ancient texts for any clues on how to isolate a spell. She was so immersed that she missed dinner all together, and barely managed to go upstairs to her room before she fell asleep on the bed.

Fred had no knowledge of this, so he sat in the attic, waiting for Hermione. He turned to look at the full moon out of the window, and thought of Remus, which made him think of Boggarts, which made him think of Boggart powder, which made him think of...

_No._ he told himself._ You can't like her, not after she was in a relationship with Ron, and certainly not while you're both mentally unstable. Besides, who would fall for a guy who pinned them to the ground?_

He sighed to himself, and heard the clock strike midnight. _She's not coming tonight_. He thought, _I hope I didn't do anything to offend her..._

And with that, he climbed back down the stairs, into his own bedroom, across the hall from Hermione's.

* * *

_Hermione stood in the Great Hall. She was younger, and dressed in a periwinkle gown. Her hair was incredibly sleek and shiny, and was in an elegant knot. The hall was covered in pretend snow, Christmas trees with golden baubles and tinsel, and students, all in elegant gowns and dress-robes. There were also some slightly less familiar faces, most of them in silver dresses or red-and-black robes. Among the young men in the red-robes, was a particularly handsome one, Hermione looked at him, and his name came to her immediately._

"_Viktor." She said, smiling._

"_Herm-own-ninny." He said, bowing to her and extending an arm, "May I haff this dance?" he inquired, _

"_Of course." Hermione smiled, and Viktor lead her out onto the floor, along with three other couples. Harry and Padma, Cedric and Cho, and Roger Davies and Fleur._

_Hermione's heart contracted a little when she saw Cedric. _It's only a few months before he dies_. She thought, and a single tear rolled down her face._

"_Herm-own-ninny." Viktor said, "Is there something wrong?"_

"_What?" Hermione asked, "Oh. No, not at all." She smiled at him, and kissed his cheek._

He really is very handsome._ She thought,_ maybe HE'S the one for me.

_Just then, the music ended, and Viktor bent to kiss her hand. She smiled at him, but his lips never touched her hand. No, instead his other arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist. He pulled her close._

"_Brightest witch of your age, eh?" he said, his accent less prominent, "It doesn't count for much when you're given a pretty face." He smiled at her, but the smile turned her blood cold. His eyes changed colour, he grew taller, his hair turned from black to mousy-grey._

"_Hello, beautiful. Did you miss me?"_

* * *

_Hermione screamed._

_She had never screamed so hard, nor so long in her life, but she screamed. _

_But no one noticed. Every single person in the Hall just...didn't notice. She was invisible, to everyone except Greyback. He grinned at her, his nails digging into her back, tearing her dress and scratching her skin._

"_This is a dream." She told herself, "This is just a dream, you can wake up, this is _just a dream_."_

"_That's what you think, Mudblood." Greyback said, "But you think wrong."_

_Hermione stopped struggling in shock, and stared up at him, _

"_Ah, so we're willing to listen now, are we?" he grinned at her, "Well, let me tell you that we didn't set you free, someone infiltrated our compound and saved you. But not before they had cast a spell on you, making you impossible to capture."_

_Hermione's heart leapt, she was safe. But it plummeted again when Greyback continued, _

"_No matter, though. We found a way to infiltrate your dreams a _long_ time ago. So we don't need to capture you, because every time you fall asleep, one of us will be waiting for you. Every time until you die."_

"_That doesn't matter." Hermione said defiantly, "This is still only a dream, nothing you do to me is _real_." She pushed away from him and fell to the floor._

"_You're wrong, Mudblood." Greyback snarled. He backhanded her, opening a long, but shallow, cut along the side of her face, "The only thing I can't do is kill you, because otherwise I'll be stuck in here forever. And I wouldn't want to stop the fun so _soon_."_

* * *

Fred was just about to fall asleep when he heard a high shriek from Hermione's room. Without thinking, he leapt from his bed, across the room, across the hallway and shoved his way through Hermione's door before he realised he hadn't grabbed his wand, but a can of deodorant. He threw it back into his room, focusing only on Hermione, scared stiff, sitting bolt upright in her bed, her cheek bleeding.

"Mione." He said softly, "What happened?"

Hermione was breathing heavily, she wrapped her arms around herself.

"I...I..." she stammered, and burst into tears.

Fred didn't ask her another question. He closed her bedroom door, sat himself down next to her and stroked her hair until she stopped crying. After about five minutes he realised that he was in nothing but boxer shorts and an old t-shirt, and he probably wasn't helping much, considering what had happened to her a few months ago. But when he tried to pull away, she only snuggled into him more. He tightened his arm around her, and felt her relax a bit.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." She said eventually.

Despite himself, Fred chuckled, "I wasn't quite asleep." He said, "But I'm more concerned about _why_ you screamed."

Hermione took a deep shuddering breath, "I've been having nightmares." She said, "About what happened to me a few months ago. But before, I could deal with them, because they were just nightmares. But...but..." she paused and took another breath, "They found a way to infiltrate my dreams."

There was about five seconds of silence whilst Fred worked this out, and twenty seconds once he realised what this meant.

"So, y-your cut?" he asked her,

"Greyback did it." She said quietly, "And he would have done more if I hadn't woken up. The only thing he _can't_ do is kill me, or he would be stuck in oblivion."

"You need to stop making the Aging Potion." Fred said suddenly, Hermione looked up at him curiously,

"What?"

"I can learn to deal with George looking different to me, I'm already a little less spooked, and my trauma has decreased loads. For all intents and purposes, I'm sane and safe. _You_ on the other hand need help. I'm _not_ having you work on something so...trivial, whilst you have a problem that could genuinely drive you to insanity...or worse."

"I...I don't know what to say." Hermione replied quietly,

"Say you'll stop working on the Potion, or at least put it on hold, until we can get those bastards out of your head." He said earnestly,

"I will." Hermione said, hugging him tight. Fred hugged her back, and made to leave, but she grabbed his hand.

"Stay with me." She said, sounding like a small child, "I don't want to face them alone."

"Of course I'll stay." He said. And he lay down next to her.

Fred spent the rest of the night with his arms wrapped protectively around her. Hermione didn't fall asleep, she was still too scared, but she felt more at ease with someone next to her. After about twenty minutes she heard small snores that meant Fred was asleep. On a moment of pure impulse, she leant forwards and kissed him on his jawline. She could have sworn his smiled twitched a little bigger, but it was too dark to tell. She cuddled into him, still keeping her eyes open, focusing on the beautiful moon. Thinking of Remus, Tonks, and little Teddy Lupin.

Fred meanwhile, was thinking about how soft Hermione's lips were, and if she knew he wasn't really asleep or not.


	8. Chapter 8 - Corporalis Malum

Chapter 8 – _Corporalis Malum_

Fred was also thinking if Hermione could tell he'd been lying.

He _was_ a little less spooked by George now, but he still had those flashbacks, he still woke up in the middle of the night, clutching his wand, screaming one person's name or another.

And after Hermione had told him about her time in captivity, he started having nightmares about that too. Ones where he was stuck behind a wall, and couldn't reach her, ones where the Death Eaters were torturing her to get information from him, and the worst, the worst by far, were the ones where _he _was the one throwing the Boggart powder in her face.

But tonight he felt a little more at peace, and yet, not at all. He _had_ wanted Hermione to stop working on the Potion, and he knew she wouldn't unless he told her he was coping. But he hated lying. To his mother and George especially, but to Hermione, seeing those big, brown, trusting eyes, it was almost unbearable.

Hermione didn't know Fred had been lying, or that he was awake. All she knew was that she was feeling slightly better in Fred's arms, but she was still terrified of going to sleep.

_What are they doing? _She wondered, _How are they entering my dreams?_

_Legimency._ A voice said, almost immediately, _some form of Legimency._

_I'll have to learn Occulemency, then._ She resolved, _maybe there's a book on it in the library._

But then, almost typically, another voice, the voice that always sounded like Voldemort's, entered her head.

_Do you really think it's something as simple as Legimency? How are they causing those injuries, Legimency cannot harm you physically._

Hermione pushed that voice away. She snuggled into Fred's arms again, away from the voice.

...and, as hard as she tried to resist, she fell asleep.

* * *

_She was no longer at the Yule Ball, she was back in her cell. All the Death Eaters were standing around her._

"_So lovely of you to join us again, Miss Granger." Said one of them, "We have a _very_ special show planned for you."_

_Hermione shrank back against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself. The Death Eaters laughed, _

"_Oh Miss Granger." One of them chided, "Do not assume so quickly. We have something _much_ more tasteful in mind."_

"_W-what?" Hermione asked them, then she steeled herself, "Do what you like. You won't be in my head for long."_

_They laughed. _

"_Miss Granger, you must at least _try_ to convince us. How could you even hope to do that when your memories and thoughts are an open door? Occulemency will not help you. That little voice of yours was right. True, invading your dreams _was _a form of Legimency, but _this_ goes _far_ beyond Legimency. This is a Dark Art created by the Dark Lord himself."_

"_W-what is it?" she asked,_

"Corporalis Malum_." He answered, pointing his wand at her. Then one of them lunged forward._

_Before Hermione could move back, she felt a blinding pain on the side of her face. One of the Death Eaters had cut her face, deepening the slightly less fresh cut that was already there._

"Corporalis Malum_ is a spell." The Death Eater said, wiping his hand on her shirt, "That turns your body's dream form corporeal. You never feel pain in dreams, and you are almost never harmed, you don't see your own blood being spilled. But once _Courporalis Malum_ takes effect that does not happen. You_ do_ feel pain, you _do_ see yourself harmed in dreams. And it is all, very, _very_ real."_

"_What happens if you kill me, then?" Hermione asked them._

The more I know, the more chance I have of getting them out of my head._ She thought._

"_If you are killed in your dreams, then you die in real life. And we are trapped inside your mind."_

"_Speaking of which, how are you here? Are _you_ asleep?"_

"_Comatose would be a better word."_

"_So if I die...You die too?"_

"_Yes, but it doesn't matter." Said Greyback, "We aren't idiots, Mudblood. There is no way for you to kill yourself in your dreams. We will not bring weapons, nor allow you to take our wands."_

"_What if I don't fall asleep?" Hermione said defiantly._

_The Death Eaters all laughed, eventually, one stepped forward; "There are many powerful spells that exist, Mudblood, but none that removes a human's need for rest. You might manage...perhaps five days, before you would fall asleep right where you were stood...and for quite a substantial time."_

"_I'll find a way." Hermione said, "I'll find a way to get you out of my head."_

"_Not quickly." Said one of them, "And perhaps never, if you do not rest. You may find a way to block _Corporalis Malum_, but not any time soon."_

_And with that, they advanced upon her._

* * *

Fred was lying next to Hermione, halfway between sleep and waking, when he felt something warm and sticky trailing down his leg. He blushed immediately, but when he looked down, he saw it was blood.

Hot, thick, fresh blood. From a deep, fresh wound on Hermione's leg. Her face was also damp, her closed eyes wet with tears.

_Her eyes are closed_. Fred thought, _no!_

He shook her, not gently, he shook her until she stirred. She opened her eyes and gasped in pain.

"Fred!" she gasped, "My...my _leg_." She clapped a hand to the wound, "Dittany." She said through gritted teeth, "I need Dittany."

"Where is it?" Fred asked her, looking around wildly,

"Are you a wizard or not?" Hermione asked him, "Use your wand!"

Fred didn't even bother to apologise, within seconds, a bottle whizzed towards him, he uncorked it and dabbed it on to her leg, and her cheek. After a minute, Hermione's harsh breathing calmed, her face relaxed with the absence of pain, and the only blood visible was dry.

"What happened?" Fred asked, "Were...were they inside your head again?"

Hermione nodded, "You woke me before they did too much. Mostly I asked them questions. I need to know as much as possible if I'm going to get them out."

"We." Fred added quietly,

"I'm sorry? What?"

"_We_ are going to get them out of your head." Fred told her, "Whether it's just us two or everyone, it's still _we_."

Some part of Hermione wanted to protest, but then she thought, where had doing stuff alone gotten her? So she smiled faintly, "Thank you."

Fred's heart leapt.

"But," she added, "Don't tell anyone else. They worry about me enough as it is. And it's tedious."

Fred chuckled.

"What?" Hermione asked,

"Nothing." He replied, smiling, "It's just...you hate being fussed over. It's _funny_."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked him with a pillow.

"Anyway." Fred continued, composing himself, "What did you find out?"

"Among other things," Hermione began, "It's a Dark Art created by Voldemort, that gives your body a corporeal form in dreams, so you can feel pain and be harmed. And it manifests physically onto your real body. It's called _Corporalis Malum_."

"I thought it was Legimency."

"It's derived from Legimency." She told him, "But Occulemency won't work."

"Did _they_ tell you that?" Fred asked, "For all you know, it could be a lie. I'd say it's worth a shot."

"I suppose." Hermione said, "But I'm not trying it now."

"Why not?" Fred asked, "You can't sleep, you might as well occupy yourself."

"I see your point, but no. I'm not trying it in the middle of the night."

"Actually, it's 5am."

Hermione groaned and flopped down on the bed, "What am I supposed to _do_ then? I can't sleep, and I'm not getting up ridiculously early."

"Why don't you explain this _Corporalis_ thing to me?" Fred suggested, "That way, I can probably help a little more."

"That's as good a place to start as any." Hermione admitted, "Okay, so, they enter my mind though a sort of coma..."


	9. Chapter 9 - Good Friends See Everything

Chapter 9 – Good Friends See Everything

Draco Malfoy was a complicated boy. By anyone's standards, he was near impossible to understand. Only two people had ever gotten close to understanding him. His mother, Narcissa Malfoy...

...and Hermione Granger.

At first, he had hated her. Just as his father had taught him and just as he felt he should. But over time, he found himself fascinated by those intelligent brown eyes, the spell work, and even the bushy hair, that had become a lot sleeker over time, almost glossy.

His interest had first been sparked when she had advanced upon him, threatening to curse him into next week, but when she had turned around and sucker punched him, right on the nose (he swore it hadn't been _quite_ the same since) he had never been able to get her out if his head.

The interest had soon turned to fascination. This transformation, he supposed, had started at the Yule Ball. As time will probably tell you, most romantic interests were begun, or at least recognised by many, many wizards and witches at the Hogwarts Twiwizard Yule Ball of 1994.

Seeing her gliding down the steps, with dainty teeth; glossy, sleek hair and a periwinkle gown that exaggerated both her beauty and elegance; had been almost too much for him, and for the rest of the night he wanted nothing more than to ask to dance with her, and leave Pansy (who, was quite unpleasant, even without comparison) alone.

And over the following months, then, years, he had grown to admire her more, and more, until he had no choice but to accept the fact that he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, was in love with Hermione Jean Granger.

At first the realisation had torn at him; a Muggle born, what would his father say? But then it had only exhilarated him more; for a forbidden love, is far, far more tempting than a love allowed.

The events from the top of the Astronomy Tower had been almost too much for him, how could she love him now? True, he had not killed anyone, but he had brought the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, so might as well have.

But the worst incident, the worst by far, had been when Hermione was tortured by his Aunt Bellatrix. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to run to her, and he had had many nightmares about that day; more than once waking up only to retch, spasm and vomit his pain away.

So when he had seen her in Hogsmeade, it had been a pleasant surprise. When he had smiled and waved to her, and she had looked at him, and smiled back (albeit slightly confused and more than a little cautious); he had been almost overcome with joy, _she doesn't hate me. _He had thought, _she doesn't hate me!_

He had been the perfect gentleman. Hermione had found this surprising, but not unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. And she had laughed with him, chatted with him, like she would have done with any other friend. She felt her guard go down, and found that Draco Malfoy, once you stripped away his reputation, was actually someone she was really glad she knew.

It had been Draco who had helped her come to realise that she didn't love Ron. At first she had been merely suspicious, but his blunt (sometimes almost cruel) look at life was just what she had needed to make her wake up and smell the roses. She had thanked him profusely, for saving her relationship with Ron.

"Better we realise it now," she had told Draco, "Than spend years together in an unhappy relationship, until we turn to bitter to even talk. You helped me realise that. Thank you, Draco." And she had kissed him on the cheek. Not for the first time, Draco wished he wasn't _quite_ so pale, that blushes weren't so obvious.

Spurred on by this kiss, a few weeks later, Draco had shyly asked Hermione on a date. He had been lovely, and their relationship had been everything she had ever wanted. Until...that day.

When Hermione had been captured, she had been held for over three months by Death Eaters. She had almost forgotten Draco was one, in fact, she knew he wasn't one, had never _truly_ been one.

But after a particularly romantic evening, and an invitation back to Malfoy Manor for coffee, Hermione realised that she and Draco could never be together.

One moment, she had been drinking coffee next to him, but the next thing she knew, her dress was unzipped, his shirt was unbuttoned and they were both on the floor. She had been more than willing to let what was about to happen, happen, until he had taken off his shirt.

For there, like an ink stain against his pale skin, was the Dark Mark. Images coursed through her mind, some of them real, some of them Boggart induced hallucinations. And some part of her woke up.

_He is lovely Hermione, he really is. But can you deal with your past, if the very thing your fear most, is on his arm? If you can't love him with that mark, then you _don't_ love him, at least not as a partner._

And Hermione had realised that as much as she cared about Draco, in the end, it was platonic. They had parted friends, good friends, _close_ friends, but Hermione didn't desire anything more. And after a few weeks, neither did Draco, and they were happier than ever. Both of them had wished for siblings in their younger years, and now they had them.

And as a favour, Hermione had taken Draco to a Muggle dermatology clinic, and gotten the Dark Mark lazered. After 10 painful sessions, all that was left was a faint white scar, which barely showed against his pale skin. Hermione couldn't guarantee what had happened to the Protean Charm, but it was unlikely to ever be activated again. Draco was more grateful than he could say, for the Mark had terrified him even more than it had Hermione, but now it was but a memory.

Some would have thought that meant they would get back together, now that the Mark was gone. But Hermione _knew_ that she didn't love Draco in that way, the Mark had helped her realise that. She hadn't left Draco because of the Mark, but what the Mark had made her realise.

And so, because of their close bond, Draco was immediately able to tell that Hermione had fallen, or was falling, for Fred. He doubted even _she_ had noticed this, but he knew it was true. And from the look on Fred's face, the same look that had been on _his_ face for many years, he knew that Fred returned those feelings. Yet whenever he tried to talk about Fred to Hermione, she either went silent or changed the subject, often to the Aging Potion she was working on.

Draco had no idea what this meant, but he knew that Hermione _had_ fallen for Fred. Either Hermione knew it and was ashamed, she was too shy to talk about it, or he had read her completely wrong, and he had mistaken love for loathing, just as Hermione had for many years.

He knew it couldn't be the last one, he _knew_ it. Not just because he knew Hermione so well, but because of her unfailing devotion to Fred every Saturday.

_Perhaps it has something to do with the incident at St Mungo's._ He thought, and perhaps Hermione was confused, how would she take the realisation that she was falling for someone who nearly assaulted her?

* * *

As it turned out, Hermione _was_ falling for Fred. She tried to stop it, for many reasons, but she knew it was pointless. She felt her heart flutter every time he smiled at her, and a shiver went down her spine every time he put an arm around her and comforted her.

She finally accepted this fact the night she had discovered _Corporalis Malum_. When Fred put his arm around her and went to sleep, Hermione felt safe. She hadn't felt this safe in a long time, not since before she was captured. And that was when she realised she loved him.

After telling Fred all she knew about _Corporalis Malum_, she hadn't felt so scared and confused. She was still terrified by the Death Eaters in her mind, ready to pounce on her the instant she fell asleep, but she found she could almost forget them during the day.

So when she and Fred got up, at about 8am, she felt safe. She was more or less rested, and if she drank enough coffee, she could probably keep going for at least 24 hours, enough time to make a start on getting the Death Eaters out of her head. She downed half a dozen coffees, and ran into the library, scouring the shelves for all and any books on minds, Occulemency and Legimency.

"Hey 'Mione." came Fred's voice from the doorway. She looked up.

_Merlin, he's handsome_. Hermione thought, but what she actually said was, "Hey, Forge."

He grinned, and sat himself down next to her, "D'you want any help? Two people can read faster than one."

Hermione smiled at him, "That'd be great." She picked up a book, "Here, try this one for size."

She hadn't meant it as a joke, but it was a very, _very_ large book. Fred was surprised she could even lift it.

"...thanks...'Mione." he said weakly, taking it off of her and putting it down in front of him. He opened it at the first page and stared,

"Er...this makes no sense." He said, squinting, Hermione looked over his shoulder,

"What do you mean?" she asked, "It makes perfect sense." She pointed to a word, "Look, _Contents. Chapter 1, what is Legimency? Chapter 2, what is Occulemency?_"

Fred squinted harder, "Is it written in another language?" he asked, "Because I can't make head nor tails of this."

Hermione looked at him, concerned, "Fred...are you feeling okay?"

He looked at her, "Of course." He paused, "Hey, why is it so dark all of a sudden?"

"It's not dark, Fred." Hermione told him, "It's not dark in the slightest."

Fred looked at her, "Hermione, it _is_. I can't see a thing."

Hermione began to panic, "Fred, stay here, I'll get help."

"No!" he cried, "Don't leave me here alone."

"Fred," Hermione said, trying her hardest to sound calm, "I'll be _right back_. Just stay there, okay?"

Fred swallowed a whimper, and nodded.

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione knocked on his door, "Harry, wake up!"

A few moments later, Harry emerged, hair messier than usual, glasses askew, in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt. When he saw it was Hermione, he wedged himself into the door, blocking his entire room from view.

"Er...morning Hermione." He said, "How're you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "There's something wrong with Fred, and I need your help. Have Ginny put some clothes on and meet me down in the library, ASAP."

Harry looked around wildly behind him, "How did you-?" he began, but he stopped, Hermione was already gone.

* * *

Hermione ran back to the library, "Fred?" she called, "Fred? Can you hear me?" she walked to the table where she had left him, but he wasn't there.

"Fred?" she called again, starting to panic, "Fred, this isn't funny. Where are you?"

Compared to what happened next, Hermione would have preferred no answer at all.

A high, thin scream sounded from the depths of the shelves. Hermione sprinted towards it and found Fred, eyes glassy, throat torn open and his clothes blood-soaked. Crouched over the body, was Fenir Greyback.

"Hello, beautiful." He smiled bloodily.

* * *

Hermione woke up, screaming her head off.

Before Fred could do anything, she jumped out of bed and grabbed her wand, before screaming again and dropping it.

_Déjà vu_. He thought, Hermione was curled up in a ball, eyeing her wand nervously.

"'Mione." He said carefully, "'Mione, what's wrong?"

"I...I was dreaming." Hermione muttered, "But I didn't know it. I thought it was tomorrow morning..."

Fred bent down and picked her up in his arms. He laid her down on the bed, and sat beside her. "Tell me about the dream." He said, "A problem shared is a problem halved."

So Hermione proceeded to tell Fred everything that had 'happened' since Fred had climbed into bed with his arm around her. All the facts about _Corporalis Malum_, the following morning, his mysterious blindness, and his death.

"None of that was real, 'Mione." He told her, "Well, apart from the _Corporalis_ I expect. But you're safe now."

"I suppose." She said, and she relaxed a little, _it was just a dream. Fred is alive, Hermione. It was just a dream._

Fred crouched down next to Hermione's wand, "Hey 'Mione." He said, "Why did you drop this and scream?" Hermione turned to him to answer, and saw him pick up her wand,

"NO!" she screamed, but it was too late. The wand was already in Fred's hand. No sooner had he turned to face her because of her scream, than he screamed himself, and dropped the wand.


	10. Chapter 10 - Learn Occuemency in a Day

Chapter 10 – No One Can Learn Occulemency in a Day

* * *

Images coursed through Fred's mind, it was just like the flashbacks he had experienced a few weeks ago, but worse, far, far worse.

* * *

_He was standing in the Battle of Hogwarts, in what was left of the courtyard. All around him lay the dead, the only standing person, was a tall, handsome, thin man; and he held Hermione in his arms._

_Fred squinted at the man, and some part of his mind told him, _Voldemort_. _

So this is what he looked like when he was younger; this is Tom Riddle_. Fred thought. _He's not half bad, I guess. _But he banished those thoughts when he spoke._

"Crucio."_ One simple word, and Hermione was writhing in his arms, screaming, spasming. She went limp, and he dropped her. Fred heard a sickening 'thud' as her head hit the rubble-strewn stone floor._

"_MIONE!" he yelled, running towards her, but he ran into something; a clear, smooth wall, hard as rock yet entirely invisible._

"_Now, now, blood traitor." Voldemort, or rather, Tom Riddle, sneered, "I haven't had half of my fun yet."_

_And Tom waved picked up Hermione by the scruff of her neck, and waved his wand. Suddenly the three of them were in a bed chamber. Fred vomited into his mouth as he realised what Tom had meant. He found himself physically unable to look away, as Tom flung Hermione on to the bed, and pounced after her. He hammered at the wall, screaming, but no one paid him any attention. _

_That is, until Tom smiled._

_It was the sort of smile of someone who would gladly watch you burn to death in a fire, and pour petrol on the flames. It sent a chill down Fred's spine as that smile was directed at him. And though he couldn't hear Tom, he read his lips with a sickening clarity._

"_This is for your own good."_

* * *

Hermione screamed at Fred to wake up, shaking him. Eventually, she had no choice.

"This is for your own good." She told him, and smacked him across the face.

Fred jolted awake immediately. He looked around wildly, and when his gaze fell on Hermione's wand he scrabbled backwards, only stopping when he hit the wall.

"Wha-what happened?" he asked her, "What did it _do_?"

"It made you experience your worst fear." Hermione said grimly. "It's covered in Boggart powder."

She had known as soon as she had touched the wand. After three months of exposure to it, the effects wore off fairly quickly, but she had still had a horrible flash of her dream, of Fred lying motionless in a blanket of blood. She had recognised the sugary stench of it, so sweet it made her feel ill.

Fred gulped, "When you said you had that..._stuff_ thrown in your face for three months...I never thought it would be _that_ bad..."

Hermione shook her head, "Prolonged exposure to it reduced its effects. It still scares the living crap out of me, but it's over very quickly now."

"I'll get some gloves." Fred announced, Hermione looked at him quizzically.

"What? Why?"

"We're going to wash that goddamned powder off of your wand." Fred told her, Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Fred, that won't work." She told him, Fred turned to her, and her eyes shone with tears, "The only way to get rid of it is to absorb it into your skin...and experience its effects."

Fred stared at her, wide eyed.

"Then how...?" he began, but he saw the glint in Hermione's eyes. In the one instant, he knew what she was about to do, and he scrambled over her, picked up her wand and clutched it to his chest, moments before she did.

* * *

_He was standing in the Burrow, in his home, his family were surrounding him, he was staring up at George, who was gazing down nervously at him. He tried to smile and reassure his twin, but as soon as he moved. He felt the pain._

_It was worst pain he had ever experienced, like his body was being turned inside out. A sudden, even more blinding pain stood out on the side of his face, he put his head in his hands, and suddenly his hand was slick and sticky. He pulled it away to find it covered in thick, crimson blood. He probed it's source, around his ear..._

_...it wasn't there._

_His ear was gone._

_Suddenly the scene changed. He was standing in Hogwarts, sitting beside a sleeping George, his leg was bent awkwardly below his knee, almost like it was broken. He touched George's shoulder, shaking it gently._

_Just then, he noticed Hermione. She sat beside him and put an arm around him._

"_Thanks." He mumbled, without really knowing why. He put a arm around her and rested his cheek on top of her hair._

"_Thanks." She said, he looked at her, _

"_For what?" he asked,_

"_For being here for me." She replied, "I...didn't lose anyone, so...I felt like I couldn't...mourn him. All I've done is hold Ron's hand and try not to cry." She said, tears running down her face, she buried her face in hiss chest, "And it just felt like I wasn't allowed to have anyone...there."_

"_Now, 'Mione." George said softly, "Don't think that, don't _ever_ think that. You have as much right as anyone else." He held her closer, "You are like a slightly less annoying sister to me, and I'll _always_ be there for you, we all will." He grimaced inwardly, _how could he have just said that? how could he say he loved her platonically?

"_Thank-you." She whispered, and Fred couldn't look at her, he felt sick by what had just poured out of his mouth, so he stared firmly at George's sleeping form._

_Then it clicked._

_George had both of his ears. This was _after_ the Battle of Hogwarts and he had both ears._

The Boggart Powder shows your worst fear_, he thought, _and mine is feeling what George went through. That's not George, that's _me_.

_Now that he _knew_ that George, Fred...whoever, was dead. That niggling feeling in the back of his mind burst forth. Suddenly sadness, a huge, crushing sadness and despair crashed over him, he almost felt himself being pushed, slammed against the floor, like gravity had increased ten times._

* * *

_His first tears had just touched the floor when the scene changed again. His ear was back, for he heard a distinct murmur of voices from all around him, rather than just one side._

"_You _idiot_." Snarled a voice, and something picked him up, and threw him. He slammed into something, but all he could see was white._

"_You idiot blood traitor." The voice snarled again, "After all our careful planning, and you have to ruin it by being _noble_."_

_A dark figure, several in fact, came into view. _

"_Death Eaters." Fred growled, "In fact, I'll bet you're the same bunch of bastards who have been harming Mione."_

_They laughed, "Oh, right you are, blood traitor." One of them said, "Well, we _are_ the ones that have been invading the Mudblood's mind, but we aren't harming her, not directly, at least."_

"_What're you talking about?" Fred asked, "You've been attacking her in her sleep, she's too afraid to sleep now, because of you."_

"_We said we would unravel her mind." Said another one, _

"_And that is exactly what we are doing." Said a fourth._

"_What do you mean?" Fred asked, "Explain yourselves."_

_They looked at eachother, "We might as well."_

_One of them stepped forward and removed his mask, it was Avery._

"_The substance coating the Mudblood's wand is not pure Boggart Powder." He said, "It is a mixture of Boggart Powder and a remarkable Muggle device called a drug."_

"_I thought you didn't deal with Muggles." Fred told them, "And don't call her a Mudblood. It's cleaner than any of yours!"_

_They laughed at this,, "Oh, my, you _are_ a clown." Avery chuckled, "And we _don't _deal_ with muggles, but we do _punish them and put them in their rightful places. We just happen to pick up some useful information along the way."_

"_So what does this 'drug' do?" Fred asked,_

"_Why, it opens her mind up to us, making her _very_ suggestible." Avery explained, "We simply appeared in her mind, fed her a bunch of lies about _Corporalis Malum_ and we let her do the rest."_

"_What do you mean? _Corporalis Malum _is how you're hurting her. She's being butchered in her sleep because of it!"_

"_Oh, blood traitor, you are as idiotic as the Mudblood." One of them said, and took over the explanation, "_Corporalis Malum _isn't real. It does not exist. When we imprisoned her, we always planned for her to 'escape'. So we coated her wand with this Boggart Powder, and the drug, and delayed their effects. All we had to do was appear in her mind and tell her that we could hurt her in her sleep. Had she not taken the drug, she would have felt no pain, nor received injuries. Because she believed us, and was under the effects of the drug, she felt pain when there should be none, and harmed _herself_ in her sleep."_

_Fred gaped at him, "That's sick. That's _sadistic_." He said, "Why? Why do that?"_

"_Because we can." Greyback said, "The Dark Lord singled her out, and we are carrying out his orders."_

_Fred resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Then how are you in my mind?"_

"_Oh, the part about invading minds was real." Avery answered, "It is simple Legimency."_

So if I die when you're in my mind, so do you._ Fred thought, _interesting_._

"_What's to stop me telling her this? You may be able to give her sick dreams, and make her experience her fear, and rip her mind apart, but you can't harm her physically. And if she learns Occulemency, she can't be harmed at all."_

"_Because we have leverage." Greyback said, "And trust us, you will _not_ want to tell the Mudblood after you know what that leverage is."_

"_And what _is_ this leverage?" Fred asked, hardly daring to think._

"_The Mudblood." Avery answered, "If you tell her, we will know, because we will invade her mind every night. No one can learn Occulemency in a day. If you tell her, we will kill her."_

_Fred paled, but swallowed his fear, fear would not help him; "What if she learned Occulemency first?" he asked. _Ha, I've got them now.

"_That wouldn't work, blood traitor. Occulemency is a wall that is built in your mind, which is why it takes time. Any signs of this wall and we will rip it down. She would forever be on the first step."_

_And before Fred could ask another question, they disappeared._


	11. Chapter 11 - Sacrifice

Chapter 11 – Sacrifice

* * *

_And so Fred was left alone, in his mind, as the Boggart powder took its full hold on him, and he was left prey to any and all of his fears. He experienced a symphony of nightmares, composed especially for him._

* * *

A full two hours after he grabbed Hermione's wand and fell unconscious, Fred gasped awake. Before Hermione could say or do anything, he doubled over, retching and spasming, the Boggart powder had been strong, and his body was not used to high doses, unlike Hermione. It could have killed him, but, thankfully, hadn't. But his body still needed to get rid of it, and did so by forcing Fred to vomit up what little he had consumed and blood. After ten minutes, his body was satisfied that the powder was gone, and Fred fell to the side in a cold sweat. Hermione had sat beside him, comforting him and stoking his hair. Fred had still been in excruciating pain, but she had soothed him slightly, taking the edge off.

Once Fred had finally stopped vomiting, Hermione, momentarily forgetting her rage and awe, helped Fred up and onto her bed, he was shivering, his hands trembling.

_My God, what could he have possibly seen?_ She thought, as she eased his sweaty, bile-covered shirt over his head, and laid him down to rest. She didn't even bother trying to clean it, she just performed a Vanishing Spell. She then covered him up, kissed his forehead and went downstairs, holding her wand close, the wand he had purged and made safe for her.

And from that day on, there was no object more dear to her than her wand, except perhaps her wedding ring.

* * *

Fred slept for hours, all through the morning and afternoon, right up until 7pm, when Hermione returned to go to sleep, only to find him sprawled on her bed.

The duvet had been thrown off, and he had turned over in his sleep. He was adorably gangly, and hugging a pillow in the way Hermione sometimes held old, precious books; such as the tome on Dark Magic she had been studying that very day. She found that he was too heavy to lift on her own, before he had been slightly conscious, and sort of able to take his own weight. But now he was completely oblivious to the world, and Hermione was reminded of when he had been comatose, and she felt her heart ache a little.

She grabbed her PJ's and went into Fred's room. _I'll sleep in here tonight_, she thought.

Fred's room was really quite cosy, for something that had been set up quickly. The fire crackled softly in the grill, casting warm light and gentle shadows on the walls, and the polished window looked out onto a merry street. It was like living in Victorian times. Simplistic and relaxing.

But despite all this, Hermione found she could not sleep. She didn't want to open the big, heavy book she had brought up, the descriptions of the magics in there were horrible, and would probably give her nightmares.

_Well, _normal_ nightmares._ She thought,_ not ones where Dark Wizards cut you apart_.

And she suddenly remembered she had left her wand in her room. She may not have needed it, but it was as good an excuse as any to go into her room, where Fred was sleeping.

* * *

Fred was indeed sleeping, snoring too. Not like Ron's over-the-top-are-you-sure-he's-not-just-messing-wi th-us-because-no-one-can-snore-that-loud-naturally snoring; normal loud-enough-to-notice-but-not-too-loud snoring. And Hermione found herself wanting to stroke his hair. Just as she had done when he had been comatose. Once again, her heart ached a little.

_What if he had never woken up? _She thought, _would any of this have happened? Would I have had these flashbacks? Would I be better off?_

Hermione scolded herself immediately, _of course not, that's despicable._ Fred stirred in his sleep, tightening his grip on the pillow, Hermione smiled, and closed her eyes for a moment, missing Fred flinch in his dream.

* * *

_Fred was stood on a white plane, there was nothing, except him._

"_What do I do?" he asked himself, "How can I help her get better, if I can't tell her what's wrong?" he sat down and put his head in his hands._

"_I think you'll find that there is a solution." Came a voice. A voice Fred thought he would never hear again._

"_Professor Dumbledore." He said blankly, "Why-? How are you here?"_

"_Your guess is as good as mine, Mr Weasley." Dumbledore replied, "But I think you have a question that I _can_ answer."_

_Fred thought for a moment, "What _is_ this solution?" he asked the old man_

"_It is not a solution for the faint-hearted." Dumbledore said, "And it requires great self-sacrifice."_

"_Will it keep Hermione safe, and well?" Fred asked, "Will it get those ba-aa-ad men," he stopped himself just in time, "out of her head? Will it cure her?"_

"_Miss Granger's problems are not just the ones inflicted by those Death Eaters." Dumbledore told him, "They have led her to believe they are actually harming her, and that has caused her more damage than the Boggart powder. She is afraid to sleep, afraid of her own mind. And if we do not feel safe in our own minds, where _do_ we feel safe?"_

"_I know." Fred replied, "And I'll do anything to help her. Anything, no matter what."_

_And Dumbledore leaned close, and whispered to Fred what he could do. Fred paled, but remained brave, "I'll do it." He said, "It's the only solution, and I'll do it."_

"_May I ask one thing, Mr Weasley?" Dumbledore said, Fred nodded, "Why are you so willing to do this for her?"_

_Fred looked puzzled, "Why wouldn't I?" he said, "I'd do it for anyone."_

"_Perhaps you would." Dumbledore said, "But you said you would do anything for her. Why is that?"_

"_I guess..." Fred spoke slowly, "I guess because I love her." He looked up at Dumbledore, and saw his eyes were sparkling, he was tearing up._

"_You will go far, my boy." Dumbledore smiled, "With a heart as pure as yours, and a brain as brilliant as Miss Granger's, the two of you will go far." With that he gave a small bow and turned around, fading into the white mist as he walked away._

* * *

Fred woke up, to find himself in Hermione's bed, but no Hermione. He sat up and looked around, and found a small note on the nightstand.

_Hey, Freddie, _it said_, I don't know if you remember what you did for me, but I am as grateful as I am furious with you. I'm sleeping in your room, so you don't need to move. You shouldn't move anyway, not in your state. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I think I'm starting to get a little control, and I have Dittany anyway. Hope you feel better soon._

_-'Mione x_

Fred grinned at the note, and read it over and over, inadvertently stroking the kiss next to her name. He turned it over and located a pen, scrawling a quick thank-you note of his own, and placing it back where it had been before.

He lay back down in the bed, and fell asleep, for what could have very possibly been the last peaceful night's sleep of his life.

* * *

"_There is no point in targeting the girl anymore, Avery." Nott said angrily, "We have no method of giving her more of the drug. And though we may have released her on purpose, someone _has_ placed a charm on her that makes her impossible to capture."_

"_Nott is right." Greyback cut in, "Without more of the drug, she will not harm herself in her sleep. Her nightmares will regress into normal nightmares."_

"_Perhaps, then," Avery said quietly, "it is time for a change of pace."_

"_What do you mean?" the others asked, _

"_Well, what if someone close to the girl was having those _Corporalis Malum _nightmares? Someone who had taken a large dose of the drug very recently?"_

"_You mean, the blood traitor?" Nott asked, _

"_Indeed." Avery grinned evilly, "Compassion is a dangerous thing. And the most effective nightmare by far has been that of the boy's demise in the library."_

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed, unharmed and happy, it was nothing short of a blessing.

She tiptoed across the hallway to her room, and began digging around in her drawers for clothes. She also looked through her nightstand for her favourite pair of studs. Chips of red semi-precious stone, cut to look like small hearts. At first, she could only find one, but then something shiny and ruby glinted at her on the floor, she pounced upon it, only to have her fingers come away damp and sticky. It wasn't her earring.

It was blood.

She peeled the duvet back from Fred. And stifled a scream.

He was drenched in blood, blood running from a cut across his throat. He looked lik he was wearing a grotesque crimson shirt with a high collar.

Hermione resisted the urge to vomit and closed her eyes tight, and opened them wide. She did this again and again. _Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP!_ She screamed in her mind. And then she realised that it wasn't a dream...she wasn't asleep...

It was real. Fred was really injured, and covered in blood.

Fred was dying.

She threw back her head and screamed as loud as she could.


End file.
